A selection of mentalness
dr rocker
Regular
I suggested to DFG that a thread was made to internet archive a number of posts that I was going to be deleting from another place - only what I consider good shit.
Feel free to put yours here too.
Feel free to put yours here too.
Comments
I have been tidying a few things up today and had to go up into the loft space today. Its a bit of a fuck around, as my ladders are about 4 foot short of the ceiling and so you have to climb off the ladders and into the loft. Easy enough, but when you have pass something up that is heavy it is a pain in the arse.
While I was up there, I noticed that I would be able to get down the eves along the street. I live in a terrace, so I have people on either side of me and they them. Most of the roof spaces in my street have been turned into rooms, so down the side of the room, where the roof is not high enough for it to be part of a room, it is kinda boxed off, but open all the way along the street.
Some of the houses have not had the loft space converted and so you can crawl along and then get above the rooms below. As it was a rainy Sunday afternoon, I decided to have a crawl along and see how far I could get and see if anyone had anything in the loft space that maybe they had forgotten about and maybe didn't want any more.
When I had gone over the house next door to mine, the house I was in did not have the loft converted. I had a small torch with me but it was piss poor and so I was having to be careful walking over the ceiling joists looking around the loft space. One wrong foot and I could be through the ceiling.
I heard a muffled noise below and looked, but there was a lot of fibre glass insulation. I was sure I could heard people laughing and carrying on. I wanted to see. The only thing I could think of was to move a little of the insulation from where I could see the light fitting was in the ceiling, by the wires going in.
I know that most houses in the street have their original fittings, and as the houses are old, that they would have a ceiling rose. Sometimes these become loose.
I was in luck, it had sagged at the edge, but as I got close to look, dust kept blowing in my eye. It must have been to the difference in temperature between the room below and the loft space causing air disturbance.
After a few moments, it settled and my eyes got used to looking in the room lit by daylight while my eyes had been used to a rubbish torch in a dark loft space.
I could see my neighbours. In there bedroom, having sex. It was kinda weird watch, even though I could see so little. I watched not being able to see much, and wanted to go back to my house. I tried to replace the insulation but it made a load of dust and I didn't wan that going through the crack into the room below and the neighbours seeing it, they may have thought something was up.
I continued watching, waiting in the hope that they left the room. She did, but she came back. They were sprawled out on the bed. I saw him move and she passed him a laptop.
He put it down on the bed and she left the room. He then logged onto zoklet. I could not see his user name, but I saw him go and log into zoklet.
He looked at a few threads and then must have went to the toilet as he left but left the laptop open and zoklet on the screen.
I replaced the insulation and went back to my place.
Well, I like being the spocker. Go on, make the spock sign. Now imagine a girls pussy and arse in front of you. That is spocking.
Their are many types of spocking, but I will go ove the main ones:
- The Spock - the classic and where it all came from really. She can be lying on her back or doggy style, which one means which fingers in what holes. If she is lying on her back, you can give her a shattered universe - from the playstation game by rubbing your thumb on the clit at the same time.
- The double spock - both hands perform the spocking palm to palm at the same time. You can destroy her universe by using both thumbs in this variation.
-The double alternating spock - both hands are used again, palm to palm, but each take turns to 'spock'
- The reverse spock - this is where you have a double spock, but both hands are 'back to back' - its good for widening, you can really get a pussy and arse opened up.
- The pulse cannon - this can be a spock or double spock, but you intermitantly bring your ring and middle fingers together as much as you can
- The Metreon cascade - you spock, but only after you have touched mild chillis.
So then people, how do you spock?
Water is amazing, it surrounds us in the seas and oceans, is above us in the clouds and is below is in the ground. This water in the ground is called ground water. Below is a selection of facts about water.
1. All living things need water, including black people.
2. And jews.
3. The boiling point of water is 90C or 194F *
4. You can get water from a tap.
5. It is normally cold.
6. Unless you have a hot tap and a working water heating system.
7. Water is clear and has no smell to humans.
8. Unless it is poluted with smelly things.
9. H I J K L M N O is not the chemical symbol for water.
10. H2O is the chemical symbol for water.
11. A New born baby babies body consist of 80% water.
12. Water can be frozen to form ice.
13. Ice is really nice in some drinks.
14. Most drinks contain mostly water.
Do you have any amazing facts about water?
*at 10,000 feet.
If this is a coming war, I am not going. I would have when I was younger but I have got too much shit to do at the moment. That, and dying in korea does not sound fun. I know a few guys who were in korea the first time around.
One of the guys I know was in a machine gun crew of four. He was the barrel changer I think. He said they were on a hill in the snow, the machine gun barrel having to be changed frequently as they were getting heated and could jam or warp. He said the gun was going most of the night, as one by one as time went on his crew died.
He was the only one left, firing that gun, loading it, changing the barrel for quite a while. He said they just kept coming and coming and when the sun rose and they fucked off, the piles of bodies were so deep they had changed how the ground looked.
He was near frozen and had to be carried out in the position he was in. He could not let go of the gun until warmed up.
Fuck that. I will stay at home. I will grow melons. People fucking love melons. I heard somewhere that during WW2, people in the UK would pay the equivalent to £65 for a melon. I will make melon pits on a south facing slope and have them as underground trenches covered in glass. I would probably install a water boiler that ran on waste and scrap wood, paper – any old shit I could get my hands on – for spring time to help warm it a little, but it would be such a natural heat trap it would only be in late winter and early spring that it would need heating.
I could grow a lot of melons – in times of big wars, we have petrol shortages and so more people would use horses for transport so I could fill my melon pits with grade a manure. This rotting alone would help to warm the melon trenches.
I would grow my melons and they would be as good if not better than you get now in the shops and they would sell for top dollar, except I would want the money in pounds as I live in Britain. With all of my melon pounds I would soon become a wealthy man.
The king of the melon farms would have nothing to fear for his melons would bring comfort, joy and a nice sweet fruit to enjoy. The king of the melons could sleep safe in his bed knowing there was a was on some where he was not while he was in bed (a very comfortable bed) that was paid for with riches derived from the main occupation of the melon king. FARMING FUCKING MELONS.
I could take over neighbouring areas and introduce my ways of melon farming. I would let them operate as independent farms, however, I would tell them what to grow and how to grow it and who to sell it too and they would be rejoicing as such:
“Melon King! Why did you not come to us sooner to show us the true way to produce and market melons. We did not think good of your ways you made us voluntarily try, until they made us melon millionaires.”
And then, I would show my powers lie not just with melons, but in the science and electronics industry also. As South Korea would be a smoky hole in the ground, who would make cheap plasma screen TV's? I would devise new technologies that use thin slivers of melon to make different areas of colour on the TV screen. By applying different electrical currents to the melon slices, they would reflect different colours, a bit like an LCD TV.
The slices of melon would be very thin and would have been preserved in melon liqueur so they lasted a while.
I would branch out into high end lighting systems, next generation disk players and hydrogen cell technology. All the while remaining true to the melons. All of my interests would involve melons. I think once melon production volume had risen to a certain level, it would be economical to produce melon seed oil. This would be processed and sold for a number of applications from a food stuff, to fuel to a vaginal lubricant.
My business enterprises would be large, and it was all based on the fact that I was the melon king.
Some days I would become dejected and ask myself if it had all been a big waste, farming melons, you know, sometimes how you can get when melancholy can set in whilst you await challenges new. Those challenges come thick and fast when you are a melon farmer however, that being my primary occupation. Powdery milder, red spider mite, slugs, the list goes on when you are a melon farmer.
When you are the melon king however, you have to show everyone the right ways to farm melons, with proper melon trench hygiene at all times. Do no bring in any old plants, anything you do bring in make sure it is slug and disease free. Keep the area clean and tidy and free from weeds and trash and keep things in proper repair. This will help with slugs and spider mites. I would go killing slugs in the dark too, when they come out with a pointy stick.
I would leave these squewered slugs on the stick, only to find in the day light they were gone – some thing eating them in the night. Maybe birds very early in the morning, or hedgehogs – I know we also have a family of foxes living about 250 feet from the garden.
The foxes and I have an understanding. They stay out of my way and stay away from the melons and in return I don't kill them. It is a pretty sweet deal for the foxes as if they behave they get to live and if a fox gets really sad about shit – like an emo fox, but really srs, they know they can walk by my melons and I will kill them. Its like a Veritas suicide park for foxes. With melons.
Due to the fact that the foxes and I had an understanding and they suicided, even PETA would be cool with me making nice jackets out of the fox skins. Fuck, even naomi campbell could have one, but she can't as she is friends with charles taylor and robert mugabe.
See, I bet uma therman is not friends with african tyrannical dictators. She could have a fox skin coat and a melon and she would walk the track herself to the place where I live taking in the peace and tranquillity of the melon pits and the birds chirping and foxes squealing while they died and she would fall in love with place and she would round the corner to the courtyard in front of my house where my expensive sports car I have bought from my melon empire is parked and she would see them.
The melon men. Three bamboo canes each and a lot of melons, set out to look like a man made from melons. She would shit a brick. She would think it was something from that film that she was in that was called kill bill where she had a sword and she had to chop fuck out of lots of people and she would do a karate style sideways backwards flying jump thing and grab the brush I use to keep my courtyard swept and swing it around like a sword, taking apart melon men until she realised.
She would realise it was all a joke. I was playing off the colour of her tracksuit she wore in that film with the vibrant skin of a yellow melon and how I was playing this off against a scene that she could link back to a movie she was in and she would turn and say to me “give me one of those coats” and then we would spend the afternoon blowing melons up.
Many, many years ago, in a then fertile valley in the middle east, a man grew apples. You could say he was an apple farmer, he was of sorts, but it was around the times when people grew things to survive, rather than farmers as we know them now. He grow other things, and kept a few chickens and goats.
He would store the excess of apples and every so often, he would meet up with others who grew different things and would swap some of his apples for some of their olives, or grain, or cloth weaved from flax.
One day he went out to swap his apples and he had a good day – he was about to go home as he had swapped most of his apples for a small bag of grain, some meat from a lamb and a knife. He still had some apples left however.
He thought to himself “maybe I could swap some apples for some cloth, although my wife has enough clothes, if I get her more cloth, she can have more. My wife will like that very much. I will probably get a blow job. Maybe even two”.
The cloth trader liked apples, and so a deal was struck. The apple grower returned home with a warm glow in his heart, knowing he had provided for his family, but not only that, he had extra. He knew his wife would thank him for the cloth and he looked forward to the warm embrace of her mouth around him. Maybe even twice.
He returned home to his loving family, who were happy with the grain and the meat and the knife, then his wife saw the cloth. She was surprised as most of the few clothes she had were not in such a bad state. When the apple grower explained it was a little bit extra for her, she was a happy woman.
That night, the apple grower was a happy man. He got a blow job. He got one the next morning.
While she was blowing him that morning, he thought to himself how good it would be to take a few extra apples to swap next time, and get her more cloth, or a broach to hold her shawl. He thought about how happy his wife would be, but mostly he thought about the blow jobs.
After a few months of extra swapping, the apple grower could not carry enough apples to swap, so one day he swapped his extra apples for gold. He did this a few more times until he had enough gold to swap for an old donkey with a small cart. This would allow him to take even more apples to swap.
Things were going well for the apple grower. He was swapping enough apples so he no longer had to keep his chickens and his goat – they were unnecessary as he was swapping apples for all he needed.
Catastrophe soon arose however. The donkey was old and died during the winter. The apple grower was in despair had to again resort to carrying the sacks of apples himself. On arriving to swap, the others were disappointed, as their were not enough apples to go around. I mean, every one likes apples, don’t they?
The apple farmer had an idea. He had apples at his house, many apples. His problem was getting them to the place where people came to swap. He could have swapped his apples again for gold and gold for a donkey, but his idea was better.
He would swap with the cloth man for a piece of paper. The man who grew the flax and worked it into cloth laughed at him “what on earth would a piece of paper be of use to me? I want apples. My children want apples. When my children are eating apples, they are not arguing or fighting or causing trouble, and this keeps my wife happy. When my wife is happy, I get more blow jobs”.
The apple grower explained it to him. On the paper would be writing, and the writing would say that at any time the man who provided the cloth could come to the house of the man that grew the apples and take apples. He explained, that although the apples would be at his house, they would belong to the man that grew the flax and made the cloth.
The man that grew the flax and made the cloth thought about this for a moment. It was a good idea – it would save him having to carry a lot of apples at once, because now he could just go and get the apples when he needed them.
Everyone thought this was a great idea. The man that grew the apples kept them in his apple shed, and every now and again, some one would come along and show their piece of paper and get apples. When the apple grower wanted cloth, he in turn went to the man that grew the flax and showed his piece of paper and he got cloth. When he wanted a piece of mutton, he would see the man who had sheep and show him his piece of paper, and get some meat.
This carried on for quite some time. People liked it, as they were not having to store a lot of apples and cloth and mutton and olives – they only stored large amounts of what they produced. They did not have to spend the time tending to their own small vegetable plots or looking after their chickens and goats, as they simply did not need them any more. They had the pieces of paper that said that they could go any time and get eggs, or meat, or grain.
This went on for a few years, until one year a very hard winter struck. Although the apple farmer – as he was now known – had insulated his apple shed with straw to keep out the cold, still, a number of his – well, not his, but the flax grower and the olive growers and so on – froze.
When they thawed out, they rotted in the shed. Rats ate some of them, most had to be thrown away. The apple farmer was not concerned. He had his pieces of paper that entitled him to mutton and olives and cloth. The cloth that got him so many blow jobs.
One day, the weaver as he now was went to visit the home of the apple farmer to get some of his apples – apples he had swapped the paper for. Their were enough for him, but then the man who grew the olives came for his apples. Again, there were enough, and the apple farmer was not worried, for he had his pieces of paper with which he could get his olives and mutton and cloth and blow jobs.
When the man who made the knives, who was now the blacksmith, came to get his apples with his pieces of paper, he could not as their were none left. He was angry, as they were his apples.
He said he would no longer swap his knives for the apple farmers pieces of paper. When he saw others, he told them of this, and very soon, no many would swap paper with the apple farmer.
People became wary of the paper, not knowing if it was worth what was written on it. If the apples did not exist, then maybe the olives do not. Maybe their would be no mutton. This was true to an extent as the hard winter had hit all.
In the past, they would have coped – people only swapped what they had in the past, but with the idea of the paper, people could swap on what they might have in the future.
People would still swap with the person that had the gold, for everyone liked gold. If a man brought his wife a piece of gold, he would get a blow job and she would do anal. But only for gold.
The apple farmer wished he had enough apples to swap for gold, because he know others would swap gold for mutton and olives and grain and cloth. However, he had no apples. What little stores he did have were soon used up.
This was the same for all of the farmers – those that did have mutton swapped it for gold, as even though they had mutton, they could not trust anyone to swap pieces of paper for it. After a few short weeks, those that had the gold had swapped some of and bought all of the mutton, the cloth, the grain and the olives and kept it for themselves.
Soon, people did not care about getting anal from the wife, or even blow jobs, for they were hungry. They went to see the people who had the gold who now had what little remained of the food and asked to share.
The people with the gold and the food laughed. Why should they share? Was it not with their own scarred hands they had won the gold from the earth? Why should they go through labour and toil to win this shiny metal to swap for food to then give it back to the very people they had swapped with?
The hungry people then tried to reason. They wrote out new pieces of paper to swap for the gold. The apple farmer himself had this idea. If the system of paper had worked in the past, why could it not work in the future?
The people with the gold and the food were having none of this. They would not swap paper for the food they had – after all, the people they had got the food from had failed in a lot of the promises the paper made them make. What would stop that from happening again?
When a man is starving, and his children are starving, he will go to great lengths to get food. Food was such a rare and wonderful thing now, he might even get a blow job from his wife if he were to bring home half a loaf of bread.
If the people with the gold and the food would not share, then he would take the food from them. After all, he reasoned, it was only fair – why should his family starve to death.
When others who were hungry saw him do this, they copied him. They reasoned their was enough to go around – they were mistaken. Pretty soon, if a man had a crust of bread, you could grunter that he had stolen it from someone who had stolen it from someone else who had stolen it from another.
People defended their food – after all, without it, they would starve to death. People killed for food. Many people died. Many, many people.
Because of the greed that men had, they had created a market. With uncertainty in the market, they had created inflation. When the inflation reached a certain point, man created war. Those very people he was once swapping his bag of apples with, he would now cut their throats in the night for a scrap of bread.
This is how it was. This is how ancient civilisations rose and fell.
This is what is happening now.
I was planning on doing that with a lot of things, however, the ones above are pretty stand alone.
I will agree about the water thing - it sounded better when I bent a business presentation to it - maybe move that and redesign in to some kind of public speaking with impact thread.
The soil one might be better off in a certain forum with its own thread also.